


Boyfriend

by neverlandlumos



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Five Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:44:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverlandlumos/pseuds/neverlandlumos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times someone thought they were in a relationship, and the times they realised they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Boyfriend (Chinese Version)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/903530) by [d7b7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/d7b7/pseuds/d7b7)



> Neverlandlost.tumblr.com

**Martin**

Gym sucks, though not for some.

Richard comes with him every time, and although Martin remains determined to stay on the treadmill and that alone, Richard still offers even though he does weights and other ridiculous means of exercise.

There are some absurd rules upon entering the gym. You must bring a towel - does the instructor honestly think Martin is going to work up even the slightest of sweat? He barely moves his legs at the best of times. You are only allowed to bring _water_ into the gym. Oh, Martin is clever. He’s learnt how to strategically hide a cup of tea inside a flask. Richard laughs when he sees it.

Nowadays, though, there’s a guarantee of entertainment. Graham now comes to the gym with Richard, and has for a while. Upon arriving at New Zealand, the company of actors were paired off so they could build substantial relationships with certain characters. Martin, obviously, was paired with Ian. Richard was paired with Graham.

Ordinarily, Martin doesn’t bother with the shy type. Dragging someone out of their shell is just boring and annoying. Richard is kind, generous, and so very _shy_. Like Martin, many of the actors are out going and quite rowdy.

Like Graham.

Graham enjoys _dragging Richard out of his shell_ , and it shows.

Richard tuts beside him when Graham enters. Martin bites his tongue, holding back a remark. The two of them get along fine, most days. However, there have been some cases when Graham has annoyed Richard to the point where he has snapped, and it all seems intentional. If anything, there’s an underlying bout of flirting going on and Martin revels in it, eager to tease someone about something.

“Good morning, Graham,” Martin greets, and makes a point of moving his legs.

Graham barks out a laugh, flipping his towel over a shoulder. “Seeing you on a treadmill will make my week.”

“Pete’s orders,” he confirms, “apparently some cardio is supposed to do me some good.”

“It will,” Richard says in agreement. “Exercise is very good for you.”

Martin pulls a face. “Whatever.”

Graham turns to Richard. “Aren’t you coming over?”

“No,” Richard replies, changing the dial on the exercise bike to punishing levels.

“Why not?” Graham asks, reaching over the handlebars and fiddling with the settings. Richard smacks his hand.

“I’m not in the mood.”

Martin doesn’t understand, he looks between them, an amused grin quirking at his lips. “Are you asking Armitage for sex?” 

Richard’s mouth drops open, a small flush tainting his cheeks. “ _No!_ ” 

Graham laughs loudly. 

“I’m talking about doing some weights,” he explains, though his eyes are playful even as he gestures to the machines on the other side of the gym. 

“Is that a euphemism for sex?” Martin presses on, waggling his eyebrows. 

Richard covers his eyes with a hand, embarrassed. He keeps pedalling slowly.

Graham smirks and presses his foot against the front wheel of Richard’s treadmill. “No, Martin, it’s not. Come on, Richard, scared I’m going to beat you?”

Richard puffs up at the jibe, narrowing his eyes. “Hardly.”

Martin chuckles, and catches the eye of the instructor who makes an exaggerated pedalling movement. He rolls his eyes and moves his legs.

“Then, lets do some weights,” Graham persists. Richard purses his lips. He reaches down and pulls on Graham’s leg hair.

“Stop it,” Richard says, though he smirks to himself when Graham rubs at his leg. “Why don’t you just do some cardio?”

“Cardio sucks,” Graham states, grabbing his towel and spinning it. Richard sighs in annoyance when he changes tactics and uses it to hit him.

Martin bursts out laughing. “You got that fucking right,” he agrees, watching in amusement as Richard grows more agitated and Graham more enthused.

“ _Graham,_ ” Richard warns, trying to block the blows. “Stop it.”

“No. This is far more amusing.”

Richard leaps off the bike and lunges for Graham, who double takes in surprise. He backs away until they reach the matts laid out along the floor. He manages to smack Richard across the face with the towel and its on.

With a strength Martin didn’t know he even possessed, Richard manages a rough rugby tackle about Graham’s waist and tumbles them both to the ground. Graham yells out in shock, a loud oof sound echoes around the gym as the pair hit the matt.

“Stop,” Richard smacks him, “being,” then pins Graham down, legs astride his waist. Martin’s eyebrows raise in surprise, stunned by the scene before him, “- so annoying!”

Graham laughs. “Never!” He declares childishly.

And really, for someone who is fifty years old, he is being incredibly childish. It is extremely amusing seeing shy, timid Richard yelling and wrestling someone to the ground. The two of them are still going, only relenting when Richard manages to get a mouthful of forearm and bites down, Graham trying to fling him off as though attached to a badly behaved puppy. Graham’s other hand is pressed against Richard’s forehead, in an attempt to dislodge him.

Bloody old married couple, Martin muses. He vocalises the thought.

“What?” Richard asks, incredulous. Graham says nothing but winces in pain.

“Acting like boyfriends,” Martin teases, and halts. Oh Lord, what if the two are a couple? It makes sense, really. Graham is the only person here who can get such a rise out of Richard, and that says a lot. Being around James, the two brats, and he will admit, himself, surely puts a strain on the man’s patience.

Graham laughs loudly. “I don’t think I could put up with this,” he gestures to the bite on his arm.

Richard rounds on him, eyes narrowed. “Put up with this? I was trying to do some cardio, but no, you came in and interrupted me. You started this, thank you very much.” He walks back to the treadmill and braces himself on the handlebars. His glare is fierce, though it has some challenge in its depths. Graham snorts.

“So, Martin,” Richard says easily, and Martin almost gets whiplash at the change of tone and body language. “What else do you have to do today?”

Richard warily eyes Graham even as he walks over to the other side of the gym, greeting their weights trailer enthusiastically, spat forgotten.

“Costume fitting in ten minutes,” he checks his watch. “Saved by the bell.”

Richard laughs and walks with him to the exit. He doesn’t miss Richard smacking Graham about the arse with his own towel as they leave.

**Adam**

Waiting around for scenes to begin shooting is incredibly boring. The most of the older actors, like William, John and Peter gather around and chat about things Adam has never heard of, whereas he avoids Dean and Aidan, knowing all too well their mischievous behaviour regarding pranks and practical jokes.

He wanders over to Richard and Graham who are sitting outside of the tent. He opens his mouth to speak, but Graham raises a hand and cuts him off.

“Quietly,” Graham whispers, pointing next to him.

Richard is slouched against him, head resting against Graham’s broad shoulder, curled up with his legs under him and looking impossibly small for someone his height. It takes Adam a moment to realise that Richard is actually asleep.

Graham glares at him when he pouts at the two of them, knowing his facial expression reflects how adorable he thinks they look. He notices Graham’s arm is wrapped around Richard, steadying him and making sure he doesn’t topple forward. A large hand rests against his waist.

He takes a seat opposite them and smiles. He can’t help himself.

“Stop it,” Graham murmurs.

“You look so cute!” Adam whispers.

Richard shifts around, stirring. He blinks slowly, taking in their surroundings. He offers Adam a small, shy smile upon realising the extra company. Graham doesn’t move, though Adam sees some uncertainly flicker across his face. Richard surprises them both when he moves bodily, pillowing his head in Graham’s lap and pressing his face against his stomach. He stretches his long legs for a moment before curling them back up. Richard sighs softly, and promptly falls back asleep.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and waves it around. Graham glares at him.

“Don’t even think about it,” Graham threatens, leaning forward to snatch his phone and jostling Richard. Richard’s hand comes up and presses against his chest and pushes him back against the seat. Adam smiles owlishly.

He turns the flash off and takes a photo. Graham sighs.

“So,” Adam begins, playfully. “Is this new for you two? Or do you _cuddle_ often?”

Graham cracks his neck. “He is tired.” His tone suggests finality, clearing wishing to leave the conversation where it is. Adam ignores him and continues on.

“Of course he is. But I’ve never seen him cuddle anyone else.”

“It’s not cuddling, Christ. He’s just sleeping.” Graham retorts, exasperated. He shifts in his seat and cups a hand under Richard’s chin to move his face away from his nether regions.

Adam wiggles his eyebrows. He schools his expression to something more serious and leans forward, looking around for any eavesdroppers. Graham frowns, apprehensive.

“Are you two dating?”

“Five minutes, guys!” Andy calls. “Be ready in five minutes, please!”

Graham ignores him and rubs a hand over the crown of Richard’s head, and pinches an ear. “Time to wake up, sleeping beauty.”

Richard bats his hand away, though rises and rolls his shoulders. His face is turned away from Adam, though they must share a wordless conversation as Graham smiles up at him and smacks his thigh lightly. They both watch him walk off.

“Well?” Adam persists, curiosity flaring.

“No, Adam, we are not dating.”

His tone is almost mournful as he rises to a stand and heads over to the group already lining up to be transported to location. Once crammed inside, he asks Graham cautiously, “do you want to be?” - and receives a short shrug in return. Richard raises an eyebrow from where he is sitting several places down. Graham brushes it off, though he presses a finger against his mouth in a vow of silence.

**James**

They’ve been filming too long without any holiday breaks, because fights can break out over food, as ridiculous as it may sound. Although the supply of food is endless, several of the cast have certain favourites. His own personal favourite is the lemon slice, and James isn’t too afraid to admit it’s better than his mothers.

Ian likes the carbonara pasta, and eats it several times a week.

Dean is very fond of the sausage rolls wrapped in prosciutto, and turns Machiavellian once he’s learned someone has eaten the last one, the perpetrator is generally Aidan, though no one has the heart to tell him.

Richard’s favourite food are the little chocolate cupcakes with plain icing sugar sifted on top.

Said platters are empty, their respective owners indulging in the last of their favourite food. James walks over to the cafeteria table to make himself a cup of tea, throwing a mournful look at the empty platter of lemon slice. Graham, who’s already making several cups, offers one to James.

“Thanks, mate,” James says gratefully. Graham nods, filling up the cups and turning the handle around so James can carry it back to his table. He plonks down in his seat, Graham next to him, sitting across Richard, who is intently reading something on his iPad. Graham slides the second cup toward Richard.

He gets a mumbled _thanks, Graham_ and takes a sip, holding the last chocolate cupcake between two fingers.

“No worries,” Graham replies, and plucks the cupcake from his hand.

Richard’s head snaps up, eyes flaring in warning. James balks at the sight, biting his lip in an attempt not to laugh. Surely, a spat is about to commence. James peers behind them and double checks - Graham has thieved the last cupcake.

“Graham,” Richard says, sweetly, a broad smile at his lips, looking positively dangerous. “Give it back, please.”

“No,” Graham replies, “I want it.”

“Too bad,” Richard snarks back, “I had it first.”

“If you snooze you loose,” Graham retorts, and presses the cake against his lip in warning.

Richard’s eyes track the movement. He sets his cup of tea aside, out of harms away. Graham braces himself and James laughs. Richard smiles again.

“Graham,” He says testily. “How _old are you?_ Seriously.”

“Fifty one,” Graham replies with a smile.

With further ado, Richard grabs Graham’s wrist, fingers digging in harshly. Graham wriggles his arm out of his grip and licks off the icing sugar.

Richard sneers at him. He rests his chin atop his upturned palm and stares at Graham. The cupcake is waggled around between them, but Richard pays it no heed. Graham breaks into a nervous smile at the attention, and takes a small bite. James feels movement under the table and moves his legs out of the way.

“ _Ow!_ ” Graham cries as the tip of Richard’s boot collides with his shin. James barks out a laugh, almost choking on his tea. Graham curses.

“Thank you,” Richard says as he retrieves the cupcake. He peers at the top of it, as though mourning the missing sugar, and eats it in one bite.

“Germs!” James coos, despite himself. Richard throws him an exasperated look and unlocks his iPad and continues reading whatever he was before they interrupted him.

Graham nurses his shin.

“Break is coming up,” James comments after a bout of silence, “what are you two going to be doing? Going back home?”

Graham shakes his head. “Not worth it, I don’t think. I think it will make the homesickness worse.”

James hums in acknowledgement.

“What about you, Richard? Going back to London?”

Richard looks up, scratching his beard. “No. Though I might visit Australia. Perhaps climb some mountains.”

James’ mouth parts in surprise. Surely, they do enough strenuous exercise and whatnot here without the addition of climbing bloody mountains. He smirks.

“You can spend your break together,” he declares with a wink.

“Most likely,” Richard agrees.

Graham’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but Richard’s focus is back on the iPad. He coughs, the air around them is fragile to say the least, and realisation dawns on him that perhaps the two weeks together is not so much of a hardship.

“What about you, James?” Richard asks absently.

“Well, I’m all good, lads,” he begins, “I’ve got my daughters and wife here. Lucky man I am.”

**Dean**

Things between he and Aidan are becoming a bit… _tense_. He’s certainly out of his depth. Aidan’s everything he’s ever wanted in a partner, which brings forward his current conundrum. Aidan is a male, and Dean has never dated a man before.

He’s not really sure who to ask about this sort of thing. He considered Ian, but Ian is something of a father figure to all over them, and he’d really rather not have the sex talk with someone he perceives as a dad. Adam is out of the question.

When the day of the barrel scene arrives, the relationship between Richard and Graham is thrown out into the open. The deep, dark fear of water overcomes Richard before anyone could really comprehend what is happening, the broken, scared cries of Graham’s name alarming the crew and cast, hurrying to get Graham on land.

Graham leaps out of his own barrel as soon as he hits the sand, sprinting to where Richard is curled up in a ball not far from a craft services tent. He manages to pry off Dwalin’s arms in time, reaching down and grasping Richard bout the biceps and pulling him into a sitting position.

He gestures around him for a bottle of water and a blanket, and Dean springs into action, grabbing both from the tent and handing them to Graham. Dean bites his lip worriedly at the sight, Richard sobs loudly in his distress, fingers clutching at Graham’s chest and neck.

“It’s all right,” Graham soothes, draping the blanket around them both. He holds Richard’s face in his palms, forcing his head away. “You have to breath properly, Richard, or you’re going to pass out.”

Richard shakes his head, wiping his face messily with the back of his hand. “Graham,” his breath hitches, tears sliding down his face, shoulders shaking at the strain.

“It’s okay, see? You’re okay,” Graham assures him, rubbing a hand up and down Richard’s back. “I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Richard does manage to get himself under control. He clings to Graham, arms wound tightly around his waist, face buried in his neck. Several people ask if he’s okay, though he leaves Graham to answer for him.

“You alright, Dean?” Graham asks.

Dean smiles, and gestures to Richard. “I’m sure it can wait, nothing serious.”

Richard peers out from his hiding space. “What is it?”

“No, no,” Dean denies, “you go get some sleep. I’ll talk to you guys about it another day.”

It does nothing but make them appear more worried. Richard smiles at him, a small quirk of his lips. “Come see me in my trailer in a few hours, I just need a nap.”

“Okay, okay.”

-

“I hope you’re feeling better,” Dean says, stepping inside the trailer. “I just walked to talk to you about something, and Graham, if he is still here.”

“Uh - ” Richard replies, Graham squints at them, now visible in the bedroom. He smirks at the blush across Richard’s cheeks, realising he’s woken them.

“What do you want?” Graham asks, apparently annoyed he’s been woken up for chit chat. He buries himself into the warmth Richard’s body left behind. Richard tuts at his rudeness, walking into the bedroom and grabbing his ankle, dislodging the blankets.

Graham kicks at him with a huff, but relents and staggers out of the room and joins Dean where he is waiting in the small sitting area. He ducks his head.

“You alright?” He asks, regarding him. Dean is nervous about having a sexuality talk, feeling all sorts of shy about having the said talk with two of his castmates, and it must show on his face, because they are both looking at him with increasing worry.

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that,” he explains. “I just needed someone to talk to about… you know.”

Richard and Graham stare at the random gesture he makes with his hand which seems to encompass his person.

“What?” Graham asks, not understanding.

“It seems that we don’t know what this,” Richard makes the same gesture, “means.”

Richard offers them some tea by holding up the packet, and Dean accepts gratefully with a nod of his head. He waits until it’s made, until they are both seated across from him in the tiny table space before he continues.

“You know,” Dean says, dragging the words out, “ _being gay._ ”

They are both silent.

Dean balks, feeling very confused. “Aren’t you - aren’t you guys… gay?”

“Well,” Graham says, apparently thrown by the conversation, and rubs a hand over his bald head. “I don’t really have a preference…” He shoots a sidelong glance at Richard.

“People are people,” Richard states, eyeing Dean over the rim of his mug.

“Ah, good,” Dean says, relief flooding through him and calming some of the blush he can feel settling on his cheeks. “Since you’re together, I thought I might be able to ask you some questions.”

” - together?” Graham chortles when Richard’s mug appears frozen in his hand, stuck in midair.

“Yeah? Like a couple,” Dean says, slowly.

“Dean,” Richard begins, seemingly lost for words. “Graham and I aren’t a couple.”

Graham’s gaze flickers over Richard for a moment, and returns to Dean.

Dean splutters, “But after today, I thought…”

“What about today?” Richard asks sharply, eyebrow raised. Graham’s arm moves along the back of the small couch, fingertips brushing Richard’s shoulder blade. Dean watches in confusion, their body language shows they are in some kind if relationship, yet here they are, _denying it_.

“Never mind,” he quickly adds, forging on. “I was hoping you could give me some advice about dating another man. You know, things between me and Aidan have become a bit serious, and I’ve never dated another guy before - “

“You’re dating Aidan?” Richard appears genuinely surprised by the news. Graham snorts.

Dean laughs, he can’t really help himself. Apparently, he’s not the only one confused about the relationships going on amongst the cast.

**Luke**

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” Luke asks.

Graham shrugs. “No, why would he?”

“I just don’t want to invade his privacy or something.”

He, Graham, Dean and Aidan settle in front of the television once Graham unlocks the trailer.

“By playing Xbox in his trailer?” Graham asks with a scoff. “Richard won’t care, calm down.”

They pair off, Dean and Graham versus Luke and Aidan. The missions are difficult, Aidan bares his teeth in concentration as they scout their way around the game’s halls, collecting equipment and teasing each other when they manage to kill off each other’s players. Graham becomes very rich when Luke’s assassin is shot at the back of the head.

“Your mother rang,” Graham tells Richard once he’s come back from craft services. Richard smiles at them, dumping his backpack atop the table. He snorts at their choice of game and rubs his eyes.

“What did she say?”

Graham frowns. “I didn’t answer,” he states obviously, raising his voice when Aidan’s mercenary begins a bout of machine gun warfare. Dean kills him off with little effort, earning a push in childish retaliation. Luke smirks.

“Why not?” Richard asks, fluttering around the trailer for a towel.

“Uh,” Graham responds distractedly, accidentally shooting Dean’s character in the face and earning himself a glare from the actual player. “I don’t know,” Graham remarks. “I didn’t think you’d want me talking to your mother.”

He doesn’t miss the sideways glance Dean and Aidan share. Luke snorts when they wriggle their eyebrows at him, and tries not to laugh when Aidan makes an exaggerated tongue movement that seems to sum up some kind of sexual activity. Graham hits him with his controller.

“Why not?” Richard repeats, sounding impatient now, though his voice sounds far away, coming from the other side of the trailer. Luke strains to hear what he’s saying over the suspenseful music.

“Uh - ” Graham replies lamely, settling for a shrug.

“Never mind, I will ring her back,” Richard says, waving a hand in front of Graham’s face in askance for his phone.

Graham presses the pause button, ignoring the cries of annoyance from his fellow players and fishes Richard’s phone out of his pocket. Their fingers brush when he takes it back, and steps out of the trailer.

He hears the crunch of gravel and an expected, “ _Hello, Mum, how are you?”_ before turning back to the television screen, waiting for one of the other lads to make a comment. Luke is not disappointed.

“Meeting the parents, are we?” Dean asks, playing coy. “So soon?”

“What?” Graham snaps, annoyed. “Shut up and finish the game, O’Gorman.”

“Richard seemed pretty certain he wouldn’t mind you talking to her,” Luke comments with a grin, annihilating a barrage of zombies.

“So?” Graham asks, and Luke can tell he is getting fustrated. “Richard and I are good friends.”

Aidan adds mischievously, “But talking to his parents?”

“For fucks sake,” Graham curses, frowning. “Shut up about it.”

“We’re only poking fun,” Luke says, worried he’s upset Graham. If there is a relationship brewing between the two, he definitely doesn’t want to be the one who halts it’s progress because of gossip.

“Could you brats give it a damn rest?” He snaps, focusing back on the television. “Whether I want to be with Richard or whatever is none of anyone else’s business, so I’d appreciate it if you’d all cut out the shitty innuendoes and jokes.”

Richard clears his throat from behind them, his return unnoticed.

Graham sighs loudly, and rubs a hand over his head. He looks at Richard briefly, before returning back to the game. He gives each of them a glare which spurs them into action. The air is so tense Luke himself could have cut it with a knife though he continues the mission, his little mercenary running around in circles as he reconnects his controller.

“How is your mother?” Graham asks.

Richard plugs his iPhone into the jack above Luke’s head. He peers up at Richard, and mouths a _sorry_. He feels out of place, as though they’ve all overstayed their welcome. 

“She’s fine,” Richard tells him, sounding tired. “My father was surprised when I told him you were Scottish.”

Graham presses pause, even though all their players have been killed off by distraction.

“You told your parents about me?”

Dean and Aidan remain silent, their faces blank. No one moves, they barely breathe. Luke jumps when a character appears on screen yelling, ‘ _Game over! You lose!’_

Richard frowns at Graham. He looks annoyed.

“Of course I did,” he snaps, walking over to the bedroom and slamming the door behind him. “Why wouldn’t I, for fucks sake!” He adds, now yelling.

Luke can hear him from where they are sitting, Richard sounds like he is throwing things around the small bedroom. 

Graham looks awkward.

“Boys,” Graham says slowly. “I don’t want to be rude…”

“No, no,” Aidan cuts him off. “We’ll go.”

Luke rises to a stand. Dean claps Graham on the shoulder as he exits the trailer, Aidan in tow. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke says, “we didn’t mean to ruin anything.”

Graham gives him a wry smile. “Don’t worry about it, lad. You didn’t do anything. See you tomorrow.”

He shuts the door behind Luke.

**Graham**

He feels like the punished boyfriend he sees so often in films. Purchasing shoes has turned into purchasing an entire outfit. Peter has informed each cast member they will be participating in a photo shoot in promotion for the films, in the same pairs they were chosen for. Naturally, Richard fretted about not looking good enough and demanded Graham come shopping with him. Graham slouches ungainly on an uncomfortable seat next to the changing rooms.

“I don’t want to look like I’ve just rolled out of bed,” Richard snaps from behind the curtain.

Graham groans, loudly. “You won’t,” he replies, dragging the word out to childish levels. “You look fine in everything.”

A shop clerk comes over and asks if they need assistance.

“Yes,” Graham replies. “Tell him to hurry up.”

The clerk, named Natasha - according to her name badge, laughs. She claps a hand on his shoulder.

“Shopping with the boyfriend is always fun,” she comments. Graham chuckles when he hears the movement behind the curtain halt. 

“Sure is,” he says, sarcastically. She wanders off when several customers enter the shop. Richard sticks his head out of the changing room and glares at him.

“Stop having a whinge,” Richard tells him, stepping out. “I’m not your boyfriend.” He mutters something under his breath as he fiddles with the cuff. Graham doesn’t hear it and doesn’t bother asking him to repeat it.

“Whatever, she doesn’t even know us. With you dragging this out I don’t have the energy to correct her.”

“What do you think?” Richard says, looking at his reflection with tight lips.

Graham stares at him for too long, and Richard raises his eyebrows at him. He shifts in his seat. 

“You look good,” he says. “Really good.”

And _does_ he. Richard’s wearing dark blue jeans, with a deep green shirt alongside a brown belt and black boots. The jeans show how built his legs are, clinging to the muscles of his thighs, the shirt isn’t completely buttoned and shows some skin. Graham takes in the sight greedily.

“Then I will wear it,” Richard says with finality, stooping behind the curtain and changing back to his own clothes.

Graham tuts. “You looked nice in all of them.”

“Yeah,” Richard says, and his voice is playful, unlike Graham’s really ever heard. “But it didn’t get a response out of you like _that_.”

They haven’t spoken much about the incident in the trailer. Richard was pissed off about the situation, and Graham didn’t really know what to say. He’s fifty years old for Christ’s sake, when did liking someone else become so difficult?

He doesn’t want to tip toe around the situation anymore. Others have noticed some tension between them, even addressed it to his face, and still he’s uncertain about everything he says and does around Richard.

Richard peeks out from the curtain, bare-shouldered, apparently topless.

“What is the matter?”

Is he too old for Richard? The man is still in his forties, early forties at that. Does he want a family? Graham cannot give him a biological child. His mind skips ahead without meaning to. He wants to be with Richard, he’s somewhat confirmed some of their castmates’ questions, but he can’t really read Richard, or what he wants, how he _feels_.

Richard is so different around everyone else, he can’t even compare his reactions to anything else he’s seen. Graham is confused, worried about taking the wrong steps, destroying their friendship. Perhaps, Richard was just annoyed that Graham thought he wasn’t a good enough friend to talk to his parents. Perhaps, Richard is so different around him because he considers Graham a very close _mate_.

Graham bites his lip. “Nothing.”

“Come here,” Richard says softly. 

Though confused, he goes willingly, as soon as he is in arms reach, Richard pulls him into the changing room and yanks the curtain shut. He is crowded against the wall.

“Graham,” Richard whispers, “tell me what is wrong.”

He’s close, too close, all bare chested and bare footed and Graham can’t stop himself.

“What are we doing?” Graham gestures between them. “What’s going on with us?”

“You tell me,” Richard replies, reaching up and cupping the side of his face. His eyes are vividly blue even in the hazy light of the changing room. “Tell me.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he says.

Richard tilts his head. He is smiling. “And what would make me happy?”

Graham feels trapped by the question. What type of question is _that_ anyway? There are plenty of things that make Richard happy, or so he believes. He doesn’t even know how to answer. Uncertainty flickers across Richard’s face.

“I don’t know, Richard,” Graham says. He tries to move away, but Richard halts him with a hand on his chest.

“Yes, you do,” Richard confirms, voice tight, though his eyes are fond. “Yes, you _fucking_ do.”

Little things present themselves to Graham’s mind’s eye. Richard smiling down at him from his trailer when Graham offers to keep him company on a morning jog, offering to go shopping with him for groceries. His eyes brightening when Graham leaves the boys at the pub when Richard is tired, making sure he gets home safely.

Running through the dense fields on location, hand in hand in a mockery of a Dwalin and Thorin romance. Richard offering one of his beloved chocolate cupcakes, genuine happiness flooding his face when Graham offers to make a homemade batch after a long, tiring week.

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. “Uh - me? This… us?”

Richard smiles, and it’s a fucking brilliant smile, pearly whites on display and his heart skips a beat at the sight.

“Yeah.”

Graham grabs him and kisses him, and there’s no hesitation on Richard’s behalf, his arms wrapping around Graham’s waist and stepping closer. His lips part under Graham’s, and it feels like coming home.

**Richard**

He feels paralysed. Family day has come on set, and neither he nor Graham have invited anyone from overseas, Graham’s parents are elderly and his sisters have families, and is more than happy to fly back to see them on their January break.

Richard’s parents are not fond of flying. Or so he thought.

He stops dead when he sees them, Graham crashes into him at the hasty stop. Graham’s hands find purchase on his hips.

“What’s the matter?” Graham asks, looking around.

Richard grabs his arm and kisses him soundly. He pulls away, keeping a hand on the back of his neck. “Graham,” he begins hesitantly, “you know that I really enjoy being with you, yes?”

“Yes,” Graham agrees slowly.

“And you enjoy being with me?” Richard hastily adds, peering over to his parents who are still standing around waiting.

“Yes,” Graham repeats, looking worried.

“Well,” Richard says, with fake enthusiasm, and Graham squints at him. “My parents are here!”

“Oh?” Graham asks with a wry smile, leading them over. “I thought you weren’t inviting them.”

Richard groans. “I didn’t.” 

He waves once his parents have recognised him, walking over and dreading each step. His mother spreads her arms and envelopes him in a warm hug, patting his cheek and tutting at the beard. His father smiles at him, and claps him on the back, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“We wanted to surprise you,” his mother says, fussing about with her fringe.

John rolls his eyes. “All the way from bloody England for this.” He smiles at Richard. “Proud of you, boy.”

“Thanks, Dad,” he manages, smiling when Dean is bombarded by Aidan’s parents. A woman, presumably Aidan’s mother rests a hand atop his head, ruffling his hair and joking about his height.

“Where is this boyfriend of yours?”

Richard balks internally at the term. They've both come to terms with their _relationship,_ but hearing the title 'boyfriend' is something he hasn't bothered with since he was a _teenager_. Is that how he is supposed to address Graham now? His mother stares at him. “Uh - "

“I’m Graham, nice to meet you both,” Saviour-of-the-day-also-boyfriend says. John shakes his hand, his mother clasping her hand around his forearm and drawing Graham down to kiss his cheeks. Richard cringes at her affection, already worried she’s a cuddle away from scaring him off.

Graham doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, you too, I’m sure,” Margaret smiles. “You’re a tall one, I see. Good for you, darling,” she adds, looking at Richard briefly. To his horror, Richard goes a bit pink.

“Scottish, I’ve heard,” his father comments. “You don’t sound Scottish.”

Richard rolls his eyes, patience already dwindling and they’ve been chatting for a minute. “Dad, why does that even matter? Graham moved around a lot as a child.”

“Like football?” John asks, ignoring him.

Graham nods. “Yes, I do.”

“Good, something we can talk about, unlike the other idiot you brought home,” John states, sounding pleased.

“Dad!” Richard cries despite himself, scandalised. “Do you _mind_?”

“Nope,” John confirms, gesturing with his hand as though physically brushing off the conversation. “You’re a bit older than my son, I see.”

Oh, god. It gets _worse_? Surely, Graham is going to run for the hills. He shoots a reproachful look at Graham, but he’s smiling, eyes friendly, seemingly unworried. Richard bites his tongue and stays silent.

“I am,” Graham agrees. “I’m fifty one.”

“Never mind that,” Margaret says, smiling. “Possibly for the best, Richard dating someone a bit more emotionally mature, I would assume. Good for him, I think.”

“Yes, yes, very good for me, thank you for noticing,” Richard snaps. Graham laughs and claps him on the back, reassuring.

“Perhaps, we could take a walk, you and I, Graham?” Margaret asks, and Richard opens his mouth to deny her, because thank you very much, he does not need his mother scaring away the very man he sees himself spending his future with.

Graham smiles at her and nods. “Of course.”

Margaret leads them away and Richard watches them go.

-

John steers him to the cafeteria.

“Stop worrying,” his father says, “she’s not going to kill him or anything.”

“Doesn’t really make me feel better, Dad,” Richard replies, helping his father into a seat, hooking his walking stick over the back of his chair. “Want a cup of tea?”

“That would be kindness.”

When he comes back, his father is joined by Adam, Jed and Stephen. He doesn’t even want to know what stories his father has been spouting in the minutes he’s been gone.

“No, no, he was tall even as a young boy,” his father is saying. Richard places the cup in front of his father with a glare.

“Lighten up, son, they are just curious about you, is all,” John says, taking a sip.

Jed pipes up, “You both look so alike.”

John raises a hand and points to his own face. “Poor chap got my nose.”

Richard rests his forehead on the table with a drawn out sigh. This is going to be a long, long couple of days. His father continues to indulge his cast mate’s questions, even some that aren’t even related to Richard himself. Jed nods at every word, catching on to every detail. Richard checks his watch frequently.

Graham is returned to him with all limbs attached, approximately forty seven minutes later. Richard has never been more relieved to see him.

**

“The term boyfriend is so cheesy,” Graham comments as Richard pillows his head on his shoulder. He peers up at Graham with interest. He drags the comforter around them, too tired to bother putting any clothes on. He runs a hand over Graham’s bare chest and ribs.

“I’m not your boyfriend?” He asks, ignoring the silly flip in his stomach.

Graham snorts. “No, you are. But we aren’t really boys anymore, are we?”

Richard rubs his cheek against his shoulder, curling around him and sighing with contentment. 

“Better half,” Richard says.

“Yeah,” Graham agrees, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and kisses the crown of his head. “You are.”


End file.
